


once is enough

by picketfences (OnyxSphinx)



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/picketfences
Summary: Caleb only kisses him the once before he joins the Continental Army.
Relationships: Caleb Brewster/Benjamin Tallmadge
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	once is enough

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was 100% spawned by an exchange between abe and anna in 4.04

Ben's resting against an oak tree; the bark of it rough against the back of his head; catching on strands of hair; but in the spring sunlight, he cannot bring himself to care much about it.

He's to graduate in two days; and then to Setauket, or so he hopes—to teach. He hasn't been back in four years, so he's no clue what to expect from the children—the ones who were still school-aged last he was there will have grown out of it.

He shakes himself mentally. That's enough pondering for now—it will be what it will be; and there's nothing he can do but make the best of it. Hopefully, he'll be able to educate the children properly, and teach them values and morals befitting proper young men and women.

"Oi! Tallboy!"

The familiar voice has him whipping his head around and scrambling up off the ground; the sight of a pair of scuffed boots and a large coat hiding within it a small, stocky man, bearded and grinning has his heart leaping for joy. "Caleb!" he calls, dusting off his breeches and straightening his neck-cloth as discretely as he can; self-conscious, even as the other man is filthy, bits of leaves and twigs in his hair beneath the ridiculous cloth and strings of beads.

Caleb—that's the only person it _can_ be, though he looks quite different from the last time Ben saw him—is grinning; wide and deep, so much so that it's crinkling at the corners of his eyes, bright and brown; like a warm cup of coffee; and Ben finds himself smiling in return; achingly wide.

"Caleb!" he greets, and, after a moment of consideration, pulls the other into a tight embrace, patting his back, "you didn't tell me you were coming! If you'd said something, I could have prepared—"

"If I'd said something, it wouldn' be a surprise, would it, Tallmadge?" he cuts in. "You said you were graduating soon—I wanted t' come congratulate you. Convinced my Captain to drop me at the port for the day and night."

Ben bites his lip; already imagining the other's departure. "You're leaving tomorrow, then?" He tries not to sound too disappointed; but he's not sure it works, because when the other extricates himself from the younger man's grip, he leaves a comforting arm on Ben's.

"Aye," he says, "but I'm here long enough t' buy y' a pint."

" _A_ pint," Ben ribs, lips twisting up. "It's never just _a_ pint with you, Brewster."

Caleb raises his hands. "Y' got me," he says, "a pint or three, and maybe a bar wench, if you fancy."

"I have to be able to _walk_ tomorrow," Ben reminds him, ears flaming, "so none of your—none of _that,_ thank you, Caleb."

"Aw, still a virgin, then?" Caleb teases. "Damn, Tallmadge, I'm surprised the women haven't been throwing themselves at you—'specially after, what was it...you and that Hale boy defendin' them?"

"Nathan," Ben says, "don't pretend you don't know his name. And it was merely a debate, Caleb. No one's going to _throw themselves at me_ , as you so put it, over a _debate._ " Besides, he doesn't want any women throwing themselves at him; especially when all of them seem to be slender and blonde—he's got no taste for them.

Caleb hums. "Whatever you say. Now, do you have books t' be pourin' over, or do you want an ale? Or," he pulls his hand from Ben's arm; rubbing them together, gleeful, "scratch the ale, we're getting you something better."

 _Better,_ as it turns out, is a whole bottle of Madeira; for which Ben's not quite certain as to how he pays; he's fairly certain that a whaler doesn't make as much coin as Caleb slides the bartender. Still, though, with Caleb's hand on his back, he finds he can't complain.

"To your future," Caleb crows, pouring multiple fingers into Ben's glass; the amber liquid glistening faintly in the candlelight of the tavern. "Drink up, Ben, come on."

"Oh, alright," Ben sighs, and takes a hesitant sip; coughing as the liquid goes down the wrong way; lungs burning for a moment, Caleb thumping his back.

"Careful there," he says, once Ben recovers, "we wouldn't want y' to die afore y' graduate. T'would be a damn shame if you spent four years at it, only to go out now—and over wine, at that."

"Shut up," Ben groans, and takes a swig; trying to savour the dry, burnt aftertaste it leaves on his tongue; gaze inadvertently flicking to Caleb's face; tracking the bob of the whaler's throat as he swallows; long and slow; rips his gaze away and drops it to the floor the moment he realises what he's doing; skin hot as if he's fevered. "I think I need a fresh breath of air."

"I'll watch your glass while you're out," Caleb says; raising his own to Ben.

Ben snorts; inelegant; though he can't find it in himself to regret it at the moment. "You mean you'll _drink_ it."

Caleb shrugs. "I _did_ pay for it."

Ben's lips twitch; but he doesn't say anything; just rising and navigating his way out of the tavern; leaning up against the side of the building, the alleyway behind the tavern providing a respite; the air brisk and sharp; though it's summer, it's early yet, and this far north, the nights are still enough to make a man shiver if he's without a coat.

At the reminder, Ben pulls his own tighter; shoving his hands deep into the pockets; and trying not to think about how warm Caleb's looks; the leather worn and soft; and the memory of it beneath his hands has Ben breathing a shaky breath.

He's been outside for fifteen minutes by now at least, but Ben doesn't want to go back into the tavern; because inside the tavern is Caleb, with his warm eyes and warm laugh and calloused hands; and all Ben wants to do is to run his hands over the stout man's face, tangle his fingers in Caleb's hair.

Nathan's always teasing him about being such a lightweight; and for once, Ben finds himself agreeing with his friend; were he here, he'd cuff Ben upside the head for the thoughts that are going through his head; told him to go splash some water on his face and get himself in order.

"Hey."

Ben turns his head; finds Caleb by his side; hovering; a slightly concerned expression marring his face. "You alright, Tallboy?" he asks.

"Fine," Ben says; barely hearing the words. "I'm...fine. We should get back—you should get back, I mean. You should sleep before you have to go."

"I ain't leaving," Caleb says. "I haven't seen you properly in over a year, Ben. I'm not going anywhere yet. Still got all night to spend with you, remember?"

Ben huffs. "But you'll be gone tomorrow," he says, with a shake of his head. _You always leave,_ he doesn't say; because it's not fair; because Caleb has the right.

The other's expression softens; and he steps forward; reaching out to place a hand on Ben's face. "Hey," he says, "I'll be back again, alright?"

Ben swallows. "Don't make promises you can't keep," he says; and his voice sounds hoarse even to himself.

"I _promise_ it," Caleb says; more insistent. "I promise, alright? You—I'll always come back for you."

"What, like some bonny lass?"

Caleb's lips pull into a frown. "You're more than some woman to me, Ben," he says.

"Ah. Well, you'd have kissed a woman, at least."

It's the wrong thing to say; he knows it as soon as it's tumbled from his lips; but it's out, then; hanging between them like smoke in the cold night air; and something in Caleb's expression changes. "What makes you think I never wanted that from you?"

Ben gives him a wry smile. "From me?"

"Aye. What, you want proof?"

"Can't imagine you'd give it," he retorts; but the words are cut off as Caleb's lips collide with his; harsh, mismatched for a moment, until he adjusts his stance, fingers gentle against Ben's jaw; the kiss turning deep as Ben melts into it; hands running over the other's shoulders, grasping at the hairs on the nape of his neck.

Caleb pulls away; the distance between them barely more than a hair's breadth. "That enough proof for you, Tallboy?" he pants.

Ben swallows. "You should go," he says, quietly. "Before someone comes by and sees you. Go back to whatever inn you're staying at."

Caleb's gaze flickers; and he steps away; hand dropping from Ben's jaw. "I'll be back for you, Ben," he promises, before turning away, coat whipping in behind him, and disappears back into the tavern. After a few moments, Ben follows.

Caleb's gone; but he's poured Ben a final glass; and Ben sits, swirling the glass slightly; finding the memory of Caleb's gaze in the dark amber liquid, and the taste of his lips as he drinks.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [major-721](https://major-721.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
